


Ready Man

by SLq



Category: due South
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, dsss, due South Seekrit Santa Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLq/pseuds/SLq
Summary: Fraser is no longer certain of his place in his relationship with Ray Kowalski and Ray Vecchio. He prepares for the inevitable moment he is left alone.Neither Ray is very pleased.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ButterflyGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/gifts).



> Loosely fills the following prompt:
> 
> "Negotiations as the Rays find that they have more in common than having been undercover and shared a name. Ideally, from Fraser's point of view, since I haven't seen much in the fandom where he's the observer in a developing Ray/Ray relationship, let alone an OT3. A certain amount of insecurity on his part, before realising that he isn't going to lose either Ray."
> 
> For the lovely and extremely talented, ButterflyGhost. 
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful betas. <3

"What's this?"

Ray Kowalski's voice sounds strange - a pitch too low, a pinch too tight. It echoes in the quiet living room with the ragged severity of a gunshot. Fraser's attention shifts from one Ray to the other abruptly enough to be rude, if not for the way Ray Vecchio's head also snaps toward the sound. Fraser's alarm is reflected in the sudden stiffness of the body beside him.

Ray is framed in the doorway. His hair is wet, blonde locks soft over the crown of his head. His eyes seem to glow in the poor light. Fraser holds them, not because he is standing any sort of ground but because he simply cannot look away. In that moment, he feels kinship to the many a startled deer that has found its demise over the hood of a speeding truck.

Ray clears his throat. "Looks like one of Benny's journals. You done and gone completely blind on us now, Kowalski?" Ray's banter lacks its usual edge.

Ray doesn't respond. He hasn't moved since calling out to them. The man's hands clench; one over the spine of a journal, the other into a fist. The blankness of his features is most unsettling. Fraser's heart lurches to lodge somewhere in his throat. He finds himself afraid to open his mouth, lest he spits it out.

"Did you know?" Ray asks in the same tense, threaded tone. The question is not meant for Fraser.

"Know what?" Ray demands. The fire is back in his voice, banked by worry. "Kowalski, what the hell's the matter with-"

Ray laughs, rough and terrible. "Good to know I ain't the only fucking loser this time 'round," he snarls. The journal goes flying. Something breaks. Ray gets up from the couch, swearing. Fraser can't feel his arms. His legs are gone. His whole body feels distant, as unreal as the image of Ray drawing his fist back and slamming it into the wall.

" _Kowalski!_ " 

Ray disappears into the hallway. A moment later, the front door slams shut. Fraser stares after him. His eyes are dry. His heart beats in his throat, the rhythm uneven.

"-ny. Benny!"

Fraser blinks. Ray's concerned face comes into focus. Fraser hasn't shifted from his seat on the couch. At some point, Ray has come to stand beside him and Fraser hadn't noticed. Large hands press over Fraser's shoulders, warm and solid. Fraser wishes to lean forward, to hide himself in Ray's body. He takes a breath and keeps himself still. He doesn't deserve Ray's kindness or a shelter from the avalanche he has set into motion.

"I'm going after him," Ray says, "It's ten below outside. The idiot didn't take his goddamn jacket!" Fraser nods him along, keeps nodding even after Ray falls silent. He makes himself stop, but it's too late. Ray's eyes are already narrowed in thought. His hands drop from Fraser's shoulders. Fraser tracks Ray across the room. Watches him pick up the journal - _he should have hidden it better. Why hadn't he?_ \- and leaf through a few mangled pages. Ray stiffens, and Fraser closes his eyes briefly. He forces them open at Ray's soft, "Benny."

"Yes, Ray?"

"Did you mean to..." Ray swallows. The journal shakes in his hands. "Do you want to..."

"No," Fraser breathes, horrified, "God, Ray, _no_."

Ray nods jerkily. He closes the journal. After a moment of consideration, he lets it drop back into the mess of glass on the floor and walks out of the room. Fraser's lungs feel frozen. It hurts to breathe.

Ray walks back inside several long seconds later. He has his coat on and is in the process of pulling on his gloves. "Stay here. I don't want to have to hunt you down, too." Fraser nods. Ray looks at him. His expression is tightly controlled, but no amount of stoicism can hide the anger in his eyes. The hurt beneath it. "We're gonna talk about this, Benny," he says. Fraser bows his head, as much in agreement as in submission.

Ray leaves. Fraser closes his eyes and wonders why people slip away the easiest when one clutches them tight.

 

* * *

 

It started a month ago, with the presents.

"C'mon," Ray says, circling from Fraser to Ray and back, almost dancing, "It'll be fun, c'mon!"

"Are you _five_? Hey, hey - careful with the sauce!" Ray pushes Ray away, gentle for all his grumbling. He turns the saucepan on the stove, so the handle no longer sticks out into the room. Fraser hides a smile and dutifully carries on slicing tomatoes.

"Four and a half. It's what Stella always said. _C'mon_ \- Frase, you're with me, right?" Ray turns to him with a hopeful grin. Fraser sets the knife down. Ray's face is radiant with his joy; Fraser suddenly finds himself too distracted to have sharp things near his fingers.

"I would be happy to back you, Ray, but I must admit to some doubts regarding the ethics involved in this...game of yours."

Ray snorts from the stove. "Ethics?" Ray demands. His eyes are laughing. "Frase, I'm talking about playin' hide and seek with our presents, not planting bombs!"

"Even so. To have a carefully-arranged surprise spoiled for a bit of fun seems unsporting."

"Unsporting. You tell 'im, Benny," Ray laughs.

"We don't gotta _open_ them. Just find them. Think of it as a test of our um, tracking skills." Ray leans closer. "C'mon, Frase. Just a bit of fun," he murmurs, lips pressing against Fraser's with each word, "C'mon."

"Okay," Fraser finds himself breathing. Ray's mouth tastes of oranges and pop.

"You're so easy, Benny," Ray mutters over the sizzle of pans. Ray laughs and makes to pull away. Fraser clutches at him, pulls him back into another kiss. He swallows Ray's happy chuckle - a piece of Ray for him to keep.

They pull apart slowly. Fraser catches Ray's eyes over Ray's shoulder. He is watching them, face soft with wonder.

Ray turns in Fraser's arms. "Sap," he mocks, but his eyes are tender.

Ray scowls half-heartedly and turns back to the stove. "Either help or go sit with the wolf, Kowalski. We're on a schedule, here."

"Yeah, yeah." Ray grins. He winks at Fraser, then darts around him to press a wet smooch to Ray's cheek. Ray hollers in indignation. Dief howls back from the living room, which sets off Ray cackling and Ray swearing in Italian. The apartment rings loud with their voices. Fraser listens, tries to store the sound as he does candles for the storms that roll over the land up north.

Bright warmth for days of cold silence.

 

* * *

 

Fraser takes a gasping breath. His lungs expand greedily in his chest, pained with a lack of air. Soft whining and fur under his fingers alert him to Dief's presence. The wolf has curled at Fraser's feet, his head in Fraser's lap.

"Didn't hear you come back," Fraser rasps. Dief barks. "I...yes. It seems I'm a-alone."

Fraser rubs at his chest then catches himself and drops his hand. Unacceptable. Displays of self-pity are neither warranted nor just, inherently manipulative as they are. Ray and Ray owe him nothing. He will not burden them with his grief. Misplaced guilt won't help anything. It certainly won't make them love him. It's only-

He only wishes that-

Fraser squeezes his eyes shut.

"Ray found it." The journal had been in Fraser's duffel, the bag itself stuffed at the very bottom of their shared closet. "He must have been looking for his present. That is, my present to him." Fraser had found Ray's presents a week ago. Tonight would have been Ray's last chance to even the score.

Fraser takes another deep breath, but the pain in his chest doesn't lessen. It's Christmas Eve. He has made his friend, his partner, _the man he_ _loves_ , run out of their home on Christmas Eve.

Dief barks, sharper this time. "I had to!" Fraser snaps. Dief growls but nudges his nose into Fraser's side. Fraser strokes his fingers through thick white fur. "I had to," he repeats, quieter.

He'd had to write it. Had to leave something behind, to remind them of him once he was gone.

 

* * *

 

It actually started four months ago, with the squatters.

Fraser receives the call at work. A group of native teens was caught trespassing on his property. The investigation revealed they had been living in his father's cabin for over two months. Fraser did not wish to press charges. He is, however, curious. It is strange to think of someone else calling the cabin home - of voices beside his own echoing between its walls. When Constable Rowan mentions that they are having difficulties getting the teens to talk, Fraser volunteers his help.

Ray and Ray send him off. They take Ray's GTO after a loud and lengthy argument. The remnant grumbling drags all the way to the airport. "Take care of each other," Fraser tells them in parting. Ray snorts. Ray mutters something about stubborn Polaks, and they're off again. Fraser's farewell ends up involving multilingual cursing.

Fraser spends the long trip to Inuvik worrying. Their relationship is still new, still unfamiliar and rough around the edges. The thought that he would come back to Chicago and find either Ray no longer willing to fit the others into his life keeps Fraser up the first two nights.

The case drags on. A local tribe gets involved. The work is interesting - important in a way consular duties simply cannot compare. Fraser acquiesces to staying an extra week when he is asked. He calls the station immediately afterward, feeling guilty but unable to regret his decision.

Ray and Ray are not in.  Later that night, Ray calls Fraser to crow over closing a case successfully. Fraser sits on his empty bed in his long johns and listens. The excitement in Ray's voice warms him better than the fire crackling some distance away.

"-scrubbed everything. The whole place, squeaky-clean - but dumb fuck forgets to scrape the crap off his shoes! Blood matches perfectly, and it's hasta la vista, buster!"

"It is a common mistake," Fraser smiles.

"Yeah, so you always say! Wouldn't have thought to check if it weren't for you and your _The More You Know_ afternoon specials." A chuckle, deeper than Ray's, then Ray's saying, "Here's Vecchio," and Fraser has no time to think about the late hour and implications and the fact that the soft rasp of a sound he hears near the end is most definitely a kiss. He falls asleep happy. Ray and Ray are getting along - may even be growing close, as close as each man is to Fraser - and that is a thing to be celebrated.

It takes three days for Fraser to spoil his own contentment.

There is another gloriously joyous call from Ray and Ray. The two have just had dinner at their usual restaurant, and are now on their way back to Ray's apartment with leftovers for Dief. Fraser talks with both men, and spends a good portion of the call listening to them banter with each other. It is heartwarming to hear them so at ease. Fraser hangs up with a smile.

 _They love each other,_ he thinks.

 _They no longer need you_ , his mind whispers back.

Fraser holds still. His hand is frozen over the receiver. His eyes stare forward, wide and sightless.

He tries to ignore the thought, at first. To pretend he's never had it. Ray and Ray love him. He loves them. They love each other - what more could he want? What is there to fear? But the question is not of either Ray's love. The issue is with him. It always has been. Benton Fraser is not built for the kind of love Ray Vecchio and Ray Kowalski live and breathe and give without reserve. He has never known it. What Fraser _has_ done is chase disaster and bring pain to those who deserve it the least. To the very men he now professes to love.

The case wraps up, but slowly. Fraser finds himself with time on his hands and nothing but the doubt in his mind to fill it. Fraser is aware of his shortcomings; what he has tried to forget is their magnitude. His personality may be well-suited to his lonely post up north, but down in Chicago, with Ray and Ray, it could be nothing but a bother. How many times has he dragged his lovers into danger? How many times has he failed them emotionally, awkward and ungainly in offering much-needed comfort?

Fraser thinks of this. He thinks, too, how much easier it would be for Ray and Ray were it just the two of them. They already work together. No one would bat an eye if they decide to share an apartment. And even if Ray and Ray tell those they hold dear of their relationship, two men together is certainly easier to accept than three. Mrs. Vecchio has already adopted Ray Kowalski into her heart. More importantly, they all share the same roots - the same appreciation for the city and its urban pleasures.

Ray and Ray have promised to leave Chicago for Fraser, when the time comes. Fraser has never thought of trading Canada for the States. That is telling enough.

Fraser stops thinking, then. To find one's self so utterly selfish, so terribly unnecessary - it all needs some time to sink in. What he must do is find a distraction to get him through the week. Fraser casts his mind back. His thoughts catch on Ray's laughter down a crackling telephone line.

_" Wouldn't have thought to check if it weren't for you."_

Fraser nods. There. One useful thing he has done, one possible point of redemption. He reaches for a pen before he knows it. There is an empty journal in his father's trunk. Fraser inks the day's date into the yellowed page and sets to writing. It is only prudent to prepare.

When- _if_ he is not there, if he is not supposed to be with them, then he will give them all he can, while he can.

 

* * *

 

Fraser presses his face into Dief's neck. The wolf is squirming, trying to buck him off, but he can't _can't_ let go. It wasn't supposed to be so soon. It wasn't supposed to be like-

"Damn it, Fraser, breathe!"

The voice startles him as badly as the hands pushing him back against the couch. Fraser gasps. Dief barks urgently. Stars burst in front of Fraser's eyes. He had half-smothered himself. His chest still hurts. Distantly, he wonders if he is having a panic attack.

"Easy. Everything is good. I'm here, see? You big, dumb Canuck, I'm here."

Fraser blinks. It's Ray. Ray, sitting on the coffee table facing the couch, his hands resting on Fraser's knees. One of them is swollen over the knuckles. Fraser stares at the bruise, then drags his eyes up. Ray's eyes on his. Ray. Ray Ray _Ray..._

"Yeah, that's me."

Fraser bites at his lips, embarrassed. A whine slips through the clench of his teeth.

Ray leans away. He threads a hand through his hair, messing it up further. Fraser clenches his own hands. "Alright, look. Me and Vecchio - we talked and I. I get it, I get what he was saying, and it makes sense. You act all mighty and smart, but you can be so goddamn _dumb_ sometimes-" Ray cuts himself off, takes a breath.

"But I still gotta- I gotta ask you- I gotta know, you know? _You_ gotta tell me."

Fraser opens his mouth. Ray's hand covers his lips. It's cold, the skin clammy. Ray's eyes burn on Fraser's.

"Nuh-uh. You fuck up when you talk. Just nod or shake your head. Get me?"

Fraser nods once. Ray exhales.

"Good. Alright. That fucking- The journal. Was it for us? For me and Vecchio?" Nod. "To help us, with detecting shit and tracking and all that." Nod. "Because you wanted to leave?" Shake, twice, hard. Ray slouches in his makeshift seat.

"'Cause you thought we wanted you to leave."

Fraser's nod is small and hesitant. He can't look at Ray.

"Well - shit, Fraser. What the fuck? Why the _fuck_ would you-" Ray's voice swells, until it dissolves into a frustrated growl. He launches himself forward, and suddenly cool lips cover Fraser's own. The tongue that thrusts into Fraser's mouth is hot and desperate in its claiming of Fraser's. Fraser moans around it, wraps his arms around Ray, and holds on.

"We love you," Ray pants when they finally separate, both red with lack of air. "We love _you_. We love each other yeah, but that don't mean anything other than me loving Vecchio and his dumb bald head and him digging my skinny ass. One doesn't substitute for the other. Alright?" Fraser nods. "Do you get me? Fraser, do you understand? Because if we gotta have this conversation more than once, I swear-"

"I understand, Ray," Fraser says quietly. Ray pauses mid-word. He is close enough for Fraser to see the flakes of gold in his irises, close enough for his breath to dew Fraser's skin. "I love you, as well. You and Ray."

"Yeah. Yeah, we figured." Ray smiles, slow and small but heartfelt. Fraser leans in to taste the happiness on his lips. Pauses.

"Where is Ray?"

Ray laughs. "Getting us hysterical bitches chocolate. He'll be right up." Ray pressed a kiss to the corner of Fraser's mouth. Fraser's tongue flicks there, chasing the sensation. "It ain't looking good, Frase. The most stable guy shouldn't be the dude that spent a year undercover breaking people's kneecaps."

Fraser nods. Ray's words are light, but their meaning is worthy of note.

The front door thumps open some minutes later. "No Godiva," Ray calls out, voice scratchy with cold and too much use. "Got Toblerone. I don't _care_ if you don't like nuts in your chocolate, Kowalski, it won't kill you to _mmph_ -"

Ray staggers, caught in the middle of hanging up his coat. Fraser wraps an arm around the man to steady him and watches Ray kiss his partner senseless. Ray looks a bit dazed and a lot happy when they draw apart. "I love you," Fraser tells him and leans in for his own kiss.

"Yeah, love you too, Benny," Ray murmurs. "By the way, the wolf is eating your journal."

Fraser glances over his shoulder. Dief huddles over his spoils. Fraser smiles over the sound of ripped pages. "That's alright. You have the primary source." He clears his throat. "That is, if you want-"

"We want," Ray interrupts.

"Dumb Mountie," Ray gripes from Fraser's other side. Dief growls something through a mouthful of paper that Fraser decides to ignore in the spirit of the moment.

The journal is summarily shredded, cover to cover. Fraser finds he doesn't mind facing the future underprepared.

Ray and Ray will show him the right way.


End file.
